


Tropical Mist

by Condensedcream



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Body Exploration, Happy-horny, Monster Sora, Other, Tail Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Condensedcream/pseuds/Condensedcream
Summary: New world, new body.And a not-so-new loneliness.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Tropical Mist

**Author's Note:**

> An older piece. I wrote it when the trailer with monster Sora was first shown, so it's not accurate to the in-game story.

Being in front of everyone without pants was a recurring nightmare Sora had growing up. Now he was living that nightmare. It was Atlantica all over again, a creeping worry that his junk was hanging out for everyone to see consuming his attention.

At least he was in the majority. Goofy was similarly lacking in pants, and before them were two monsters with a distaste for clothes entirely. Donald wearing pants would have been more concerning than if he wasn’t. There was a single human, a little girl with a cheerful face. Sora’s appearance must not have been too obscene considering no one was scrambling to cover her eyes.

Sora took in a steadying breath before approaching the group. He started up his usual just-arrived routine, went through the motions of being open and friendly, helpful. Skills he'd learned as a child, now cultivated into automatic actions he went through even when his heart wasn't in it.

And times like now, when he was too focused on his lack of pants to function outside of that.

Their problems weren’t anything he hadn't heard before, anything he couldn't handle. The words he spoke were borderline scripted, his smile a natural reflex. Yes, they could help. They just needed time first. A moment to investigate, a night of rest.

They were given that much, and Sora suggested splitting up. They could meet up in the morning and discuss what they found.

Donald and Goofy agreed and saw him off with their usual parental reminders he'd heard a hundred times.

Yes, he'd take a shower. Yes, he'd go to bed on time. He was glad they didn't tell him to put on clean underwear anymore. It wasn't like he had the option now anyway.

Sora made his way down the empty corridor they'd been told would have rooms. His nails clicked against a waxy, wooden floor. He tried the first door he found, the knob loose and jangling as he turned it.

The first thing he did after he locked the door behind him was stare downward. Nothing. There was nothing.

This really was Atlantica all over again. Relief dimmed his anxiety as he took in the room.

It held the stale air of a space left too long unoccupied. The walls were aged to an off white, the carpet snagging on his claws when he stepped in. A lamp flickered on when he hit the light switch. It buzzed, shut off, and took several seconds before deciding to turn on again. A single roommate waited for him in the form of a spiderweb.

Homey.

Sora walked over to the bed, turning to sit and collect himself. He jumped to his feet when a horrible cramp snaked up his back. Upon turning around, he found nothing. When he sat again, distinctly slow and wary, he found what he’d sat on.

A tail.

Sora let out a soft noise of delight at the discovery, shifting it aside with something akin to reverence as he managed to sit fully, head already racing with questions about what else had changed for him.

New world, new body.

And a not-so-new loneliness.

For all the grand adventures he had and people he met, he wished he could share these moments with his closest friends. It was one thing to breathlessly trade stories, another to experience them together. There was nothing wrong with Goofy or Donald. But they weren't Riku- and Kairi-shaped, and couldn't fill that hole.

He also imagined any excitement for him and his tail would be indulgent at best from them.

For now he'd have to settle for playing body-exploration on his own, starting with the shower he promised to take. He looked down at himself again, taking in how much fur he had, a deep heathered gray struck through with darker accents. It was everywhere.

Was he... was he supposed to groom himself?

He brought an arm up and licked it.

More tongue than he expected fell out of his mouth, and his knee-jerk reaction was to stuff it back in gracelessly.

Okay. That wasn't going to work.

He stood up after shutting his mouth, glancing around the room before approaching an open door in the corner. It led to a small bathroom with linoleum tiles that curled at the edges and a faded shower curtain.

Sora suddenly didn't mind that he was alone. There were no witnesses to his foolishness.

He was caught by his own reflection in the mirror when he made for the shower. Sora placed a hand on the counter, leaning in close to the mirror for better inspection. The only thing immediately recognizable to him was his eyes, bright and blue, widened with wonder at the sight of himself.

Which stemmed mostly from the lack of any apparent nose. The space where it should have been was vacant, the lips farther down his face lined with black and curved. He opened his mouth to see a row of the milk teeth of a predator. Almost sharp, not quite there. When he pulled at the side of the mouth, his fingertip ran over the occasional straggler that lagged behind the front row.

They were cool enough to almost make up for becoming an anatomically-compelled mouth breather.

Letting his hand drop from his mouth, he ran it over the soft connection where his jaw latched to his throat, no set bone distinguishing where his head ended and neck began. His hair was the next to be investigated.

Except it wasn’t hair, and it wasn’t fur. Skin didn’t strike him as right either. At least it seemed fairly set in its ways, no risk of it giving him a bad hair day the next morning. The pointed ears he’d gained weren’t too shabby, either.

Satisfied with his once over, Sora turned the shower taps before shrugging his jacket and bracers off. He stepped into the steam, water sluicing over his fur and laying it flat against his body. It ran over his head in rivulets, not soaking so much as running off.

He took a bar of soap in hand, wetting it before taking it to his arm. It lathered against him, but the drag of it as it pushed his fur in the wrong direction gave him the worst sort of goosebumps and raised his hackles. Sora silently and retroactively apologized to every cat he'd pet backwards as he put the soap back.

The only other thing in the shower was a plastic bottle. Sora picked it up and examined the water-faded label.

Perfect Coat, Shed Control & Hairball Shampoo. Tropical mist-scented.

Hairballs weren’t something Sora was ready to consider, but he did want to be clean. He flicked the cap open and poured it into his palm, the gel an anemic blue. There was no tropical mist aroma, a floral and chemical plastic amalgamation greeting him instead. He wasn't sure how he could smell that.

He was careful this time, smoothing the shampoo over his fur, nails gently working it into sudsy foam. Despite the physical differences from his usual body, Sora hadn't considered the tactile changes that accompanied it.

The pads of his paws were soft, almost worn, and his stomach was sensitive. Not in the vein of ticklish, but a deeper receptivity to contact. He pressed along it in careful strokes, twitching away from his own touch when he moved upwards. Something had rubbed against his palm, sending a jolt through him.

He looked down at his chest, nudging aside the fur in an attempt to see what he'd touched. More than one spot made him jump.

There were eight, to be exact.

Leading from his chest to his stomach were two rows of nipples, each a creamy pink and slightly raised. His breath stuttered in his throat as he inventoried them, every glancing touch bringing on another jolt. He couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It was intense, he decided. It would need more investigating. Proper sleuthing.

Sora mentally stowed the task away and returned to washing himself, foam lathered in his paws and rubbed into his fur. He made his way over his arms and legs, hesitating before moving up his thighs. A familiar stirring had started in his stomach as he’d touched his chest, heated and tight, but in this new body he was unsure of how to handle it.

He ran his fingers along his hips, hesitating as they moved downward between his thighs. His skin prickled in the wake of his hands, hips canting forward in search of pressure. A surge of pleasure sparked when his fingertips stumbled over a slit between his legs. It opened easily as he hurriedly pushed a finger within.

An abrupt sting of pain stopped him short of more, the reality of his claws surfacing as Sora withdrew his finger. He shuddered once under the shower head, frustration mixing into his thoughts. He stayed in the shower until the water turned tepid, his state faring no better for it. Water streamed from his fur in rivulets as he turned the tap off, a compulsion surfacing in his mind to shake all at once.

A spray of droplets spattered the curtain as he shook. The movement was amateur at best, uncoordinated and more dizzying than helpful. Sora tried a second, then a third time before he was satisfied with the movement. He stepped out of the shower not dry, but safely damp and free of tracking water after him.

The bedroom was no more welcoming when he re-entered it, the lamp buzzing as he passed by it. He lurched onto the bed with all of his weight, hitting it with a thud followed by a residual bounce. His stomach was still distractingly warm. Enough so that it kept his hopes of sleep at bay, simmering under his skin to the point of distraction.

A sigh rumbled in his throat as he sat up, propping the pillow against the wall before leaning back into it. He was careful of his tail, tucking it so that it lay between his legs as he let them settle apart. He looked down to see his nipples, placing a hand on one to retest its sensitivity.

It was still a lot, but without the rushing sound and pelting water of the shower he could concentrate on what exactly "a lot" was.

It was a lot of good, he decided. He raised his other hand to mirror his first, skimming his fingertips downwards and over his nipples, letting his back arch and bow in tune with the touch. The lower he moved, the harder it got to think. He stopped considering what he was doing, what it would lead to, and let himself submerge in the experience.

The spot between his legs was still wet when his hands met it, though no longer from water. Sora cautiously moved the pad of his thumb along the slit, his body's reaction an interested tensing. Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned forward with newfound flexibility in order to look at himself, peering down at the wet spot.

Pink appeared when he gently pushed away the fur around it, the slit opening when he applied more pressure. Strands of clear, viscous fluid appeared as he opened himself further, too thick to easily snap.

The craving to try again, to touch deeply within himself, was stoked. Every part of his mind was centered on the desire, the need to do something–anything. He hardly wanted to accidentally claw his own insides, but the thought of doing nothing was borderline unbearable.

In his irritation, Sora's tail gave an agitated flick.

Sora stared.

The thought that sprung on him was smarter than using his fingers only at a subatomic level.

Sora took the end of his tail in hand, working it one way, then the other to test its flexibility. He bent it in on itself in an arc, the muscles faintly taut but not painful. Moving down over the bumpy ridges and settling his grip closer to the base, Sora didn’t give himself the luxury of second thoughts before he was pushing his tail into his slit.

His body tried to tighten immediately around the intrusion, muscles drawn as it rubbed against him. He shut his eyes in response, toes half-curled as he furthered his tail. For all his body's feedback, his tail entered easily, slickened as it slid in.

A flash of pain-pleasure seized him as the first ridge of his tail snagged, his grip going slack enough in surprise that the ridge–alongside a few more inches–slid back out.

Sora tried to gather himself through several breaths, but found each more shallow than the last.

The sensation had startled him, not dissuaded him.

With more care Sora took hold of his tail. He pushed it inside again–slow, slow, slower–drawn out, indexing the fullness it provided and halting when the ridge was flush to his slit. He braced his feet against the mattress, the movement of his hands slight as he rubbed along the ridge, easing it in until his slit began to sting from the stretch, pausing until the sting turned into an enjoyable ache. He repeated the process until he’d worked down the length of his tail, the tension of how much it was bent nearing too much.

An inner spasm Sora found himself grappling with what to do next. None of this he'd planned in advance, instead going off urges and what felt good.

The pressure inside him was good, the contraction of his muscles around the ridges even better. But he still wanted more, something to move against.

Still gripping his tail, he gave his hips a cursory roll, his breath leaving him in a weak gasp as he forced it deeper. His hands shook as he partially withdrew his tail before rolling his hips again, driving his tail within him once more as he started a clumsy rhythm.

Each repetition spurred him into another, his fingers nearly numb from the exertion of his grip. His hips bucked forward to meet each ridge, grinding down on them as they opened him. His jaw set and his brow furrowed as his pace normalized. Above his own breathing he could hear slick, slippery noises of each thrust. The hold he had on his tail became tenuous as the warm slickness made its way onto his fingers, sticking to the fur there.

A hitching rumble started in his chest, a breathy purr that strengthened as he fucked himself. There was the occasional too-deep jab, the ridges catching against his walls, the tip of his tail hitting a spot that sent something sharp up his spine.

He choked on the sensation, back rounding, hips tucking under. The increasingly erratic clamp of his own muscles around his tail made him struggle to keep his pace, his hands working fast in their thrusting as he desperately rocked his hips to keep up. His thoughts numbed over from pleasure, his senses wrapped up in the obscene sounds his slickness made, the way the ridges dragged through him as the thickness of his tail spread him open.

Sora twitched and jerked as the warmth in his stomach increased, pressure building with every inner stroke. Sora’s clawed toes sank into the bed as he forced his tail in to its base. He tightened in convulsions as he climaxed, his body curling in on itself as he breathed in short, ragged cries.

He held his tail in place until the orgasm passed, his grip faltering when the sensation pitched from just right to too much. The entirety of it slipped from him in a single, fluid movement that left him empty and immediately wanting in spite of the overstimulation he’d just escaped. It hit the bed with a soft noise, the length of it soaked and shining, frothy cum lining the fur.

Hot with exertion, he stayed where he was, half upright and wholly exhausted. The occasional residual tremor ran through him as he recovered, legs foal-weak and unable to close. His thoughts were slow to return, manifesting in bits and pieces as he began to reflect.

Fucking yourself with your tail had to be some kind of taboo, even among monsters. Probably not something he should do again.

Probably something he would do again.

This was a body he could get used to, Sora decided as he pulled together enough energy to lie down. His inner thighs were thoroughly damp when he managed to close them. More experimenting would be in order, plans already forming as he reflected on how effortless it had been to bend over beyond human human constraints and the unexpected length of his tongue.

Sora reeled his ideas in before they got away from him, assuring himself there would be time to test his limits. Before he did any of that though, he’d have to contact Riku and Kairi, insist they visit as soon as possible. 

He wasn’t going to experience this alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the shampoo is real.


End file.
